Eve, First Matriarch: Ancient Matriarchs, #1

Summary

I am Eve, Mother to All. Here is my story of longing, anguish, and hope…

I want nothing more than to obey God's two commandments: live in absolute obedience and replenish the earth with my children. But the power of the Destroyer is strong, and when I am told I have a chance to fulfill the second commandment by breaking the first … I take it.

Expelled from a garden paradise into a wild, dangerous world, I learn that my failure to obey will someday cause me to die. With limited time to teach Jehovah's commandments to my children, I am devastated when the Destroyer starts to lead them astray. Can I overcome evil to teach my children obedience and happiness?

Eve, First Matriarch is a reimagined story of the biblical figure of Eden. If you like rich historical fiction, feminine perspectives, and illuminating stories of motherhood, then you will love this novel by Angelique Conger.

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Eve, First Matriarch - Angelique Conger

Eve, First Matriarch

Ancient Matriarchs Book 1

Angelique Conger

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

Angelique Conger/Southwest of Zion Publishing

7401 W Washington Ave

Las Vegas, NV 89128

www.AngeliqueCongerAuthor.com

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

CONTENTS

Prologue

Eden

Tempted

Ejected

Earth

Fire

Sabbath

Building

Challenges

Injured

Gifts

Rains

Absalom

Growth

Bilhah

Drought

Attacked

New Command

Rites

Defection

Hope

Death

Expectation

Changes

Epilogue

Prologue

PEOPLE CAME FROM ALL around, many traveling for days to reach the family gathering. Many had not returned to Home Valley for years, others never visited the venerable family home. Excitement filled the valley as brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, and uncles met, some for the first time.

They traded goods and food brought from their far away homes, along with stories of their lives. Through the days they together, they visited, ate, and playing games.

Women dressed in brightly colored robes brought their younger children and older girls to a meadow surrounded by tall pines to hear the revered matriarch speak. Most had not heard her story. Few of the young ones had met her before. Some older matrons waited many years for the opportunity to be with her, share in her love, and hear her story.

Ruth stood and the gabble of multiple voices silenced while the last of the sisters settled their offspring comfortably around them. Birds sang and a slight wind blew the fragrance of roses and violets from under the trees. Robes rustled, small ones hushed, and then a silence fell, as all waited to hear from the withered, ancient woman at the center of their attention.

Grandmama Eve, Ruth said in a ringing voice, loud enough that all could hear, we are here to be with you.

After looking around the circle of daughters and their young ones packed into the meadow, Eve lifted her tremulous voice loud enough to be heard by all. This is as it should be. We, the Ministering Sisters, have met to share and to learn from each other.

Ganet, Rebecca, and the others can teach us of organizing, working together, and caring for one another, Ruth said, waving her hands toward the other matriarchs. But Grandmama Eve, there is one thing you can do for us. Only you can share your story.

A soft hum rose from among the women as they nodded and shared small words of agreement. After all, this is why they were here.

You want to hear the story of an old woman? Eve straightened in her chair, her face brightening. Why would you want to know my story?

The buzzing voices silenced, listening for the answer.

All of us have other sisters in our lives to help in the birthing of babies. We have others to teach us how to cook, weave, and make pottery. With the Ministering Sisters, we have others to share in our sorrows and joys.

The group nodded and buzzed in anticipation.

Ruth raised her hands for attention before saying, Grandmama Eve, you were alone. How did you do it? Where did you come from? Where did you live before here? What was it like to be alone with only Grandpapa Adam? How did you manage?

The surrounding trees rustled as if in agreement. The women settled themselves as the old woman coughed deeply and drank from the tall, yellow, clay cup, covered in painted green leaves. A wolf pup peeped from behind a leaf. Eve took a deep breath, looked around at the expectant crowd and spoke, her voice ancient and dry, "I do not know where I lived before I came here. I lost the knowledge in my coming. I woke one morning to ...

Eden

GREEN LIGHT FILTERED through the foliage in every shade. As my eyes adjusted to the light, flowers of every color filled my vision and sounds overwhelmed me.

Everything around me shimmered in newness and difference. My thoughts whirled as I attempted to sort out my location, or even my name.

A hand reached out, warm and inviting, and helped to lift me from my bed on the earth. I rose to see more wonders; creatures of many kinds and colors stood around me, as if they expected something to happen.

Who is this? What are they expecting of me? Dizziness filled me as I attempted to understand.

I stood, embraced by the overwhelming colors and sounds. I scanned around me, becoming aware of the beautiful man attached to the hand that had helped me up. He stood tall, with deep blue eyes and shoulder length, white hair. Beside him stood his mirror image, an older, wiser man. Both glowed. Did the light surround them? Or did it come from within them? I could not tell. Their clothing of the purist white, almost too white, shone, adding to the radiance. The cacophony of noise quieted, as though waiting to hear from my escorts.

I wondered who these beings were. The brilliance surrounding them made me want to look away from the bright light, yet kindness and love emanated from them. No reason presented itself as to why these blindingly exquisite beings were with me in this strange place. I did not think of them as strangers, strangers would not care.

I puzzled through this until the truth broke through. These were my creators! Creators? Yes. My Gods.

The one who helped me waited for me to solve my puzzle, and then spoke in a deep, resonating voice, Are you ready?

Ready? To explore? To discover?

To meet your mate, he said.

Mate? What did mate mean? The word sounded familiar, and a memory stirred, warming me. Was I ready for a mate, one given to me by my Gods?

Is it right that I should?

Together, my creators nodded and smiled before turning to lead me a short distance around trees and past bushes. Animals trailed behind and beside me, while birds flew from branch to branch. We entered a glen, divided by a trickling brook, where another man with dark hair and penetrating blue eyes, stood tall and strong. My eyes were drawn to his. They showed kindness—and loneliness. Another elegant man, similar to the Gods in many ways, but different, somehow.

This is Adam, the older God said.

Adam looked at me. A slow smile grew, leaping into his eyes. Nature released a collective breath and small noises surrounded us again.

We are your Gods, but you can call me Father. The older God gestured to the younger. This is Jehovah, my beloved son.

Jehovah stepped forward. Adam, you were charged to be lord of this earth. Have you named the animals?

Yes, Lord Jehovah. Each has a name. He dragged his eyes from me to point to an animal. Giraffe. He pointed another direction. Dog. Over there are cats: lion, puma, and tiger. After he pointed to the animal, Adam glanced in my direction.

I tracked his hand to see strange and marvelous animals, amazing in its difference to the others. I stood, awed by their beauty and the immensity of the project Adam had completed. Would I be able to do the same, given a similar assignment?

In the tree is a parrot, a bird. The smaller bird is a robin, and—

That is good, Father interrupted, but do they provide you with companionship?

No. No they do not, Adam replied with sudden hesitance. His arm fell to his side. Excitement dropped from him like falling stones. I am busy, but I am lonely. How can that be? He gazed toward the Gods as he gestured about him. In such a magnificent world? His arms flopped to his sides again.

As Adam’s words trailed off, I finally realized the difference between the man, Adam, and the Gods—no brilliance. I could look at the man easier than I could look at my Gods.

You are not meant to live alone, Father replied, his gentle voice heard above the sound of brook and animals.

Adam looked up, biting his lower lip. Sadness and loneliness filled his face, dancing with hope as he darted a glance my way.

Alone? He had been alone? And my purpose here, to live with him? Who else? Only Adam and me, alone and together in this place, this world? I felt an important loss, a heaviness dropped on my heart. Could I live with the overwhelming loneliness as Adam had? Did I have a choice? We would be together, after all, not completely alone.

Father continued, We know your needs. For this reason, we caused you to sleep while we created this woman. You named all the other creatures of this earth. What will you name her?

Adam reached a strong hand toward me. I realized at that moment I could choose. I chose to accept my place. I placed my smaller hand in his and he drew me close. I inhaled his scent, his warmth. The noises silenced.

What name will Adam give me? Who am I?

Adam turned and stared into my eyes, I could see him thinking. Did he think this much to name the animals? I would ask later.

Eve, he said at last. "The mother of all living.

It felt so right. My chest expanded as I opened myself to the name. Adam’s intense gaze never left my face, willing me to accept the name and the honor of mother. Acceptance came. I felt a thrill zip down my spine, down my legs, and back into my heart. Eve, mother of all living. I smiled and laughed a tiny laugh.

Bird songs filled the air. Other animals added their voices in a hymn of adulation. A faint memory stirred and faded, leaving me only with an understanding of the importance and specialness, somehow, of my name.

Eve will be your mate and helper. Together you will live in this new world.

I looked up at the man standing beside me. What is this mate word they keep saying? Two of us together? Is that mate? Could I be his mate? A distant memory reminded me. I agreed to this place and to be his spouse. I could do this.

Father and Jehovah led us along a path. Adam held my hand as we followed through trees from the outer world into a verdant, ordered garden. I walked beside Adam. His eyes widened in surprise, viewing a place and things new to him. I felt his shiver of wonder as we traced the path of our Gods into a quiet, green clearing. Animals and birds accompanied us.

You will be joined in a covenant of marriage, Father said. Please kneel.

Father? I asked. I hesitated until He looked my way. What is this marriage? Or mate? I do not remember.

An incandescent smile filled his face. No, Eve. You would not remember. You and Adam will agree to love one another and care for one another for all time and all eternity. You will become one in purpose, as Jehovah and I are one. Together, you will face the challenges and the joys of this new world. That is marriage. We will covenant, or promise, to help you, and you will promise to help each other, to love each other, and to cleave to each other.

Did I trust this man, this Adam well enough to covenant with him in marriage? I raised my hands as I spun in a slow circle, taking in the beauty of the garden and thinking. Alone here, Adam and me, with no others, no other choices, for either of us. And I agreed to be here.

Adam caught my hand, stopped my spin, and stared into my eyes with an earnest longing. I saw the onset of love shining through; his powerful hand, full of promise, confidently clasped mine. Gazing into Adam’s eyes, I chose togetherness with this man. The memory of his naming me stirred within my soul. Maybe I did not yet love him, nor he me, but love grew.

I thought of Adam’s beauty; his gentle, though strong touch. Could I trust him to treat me well? I gazed into his brilliant blue eyes and found gentleness and hope. Yes, our love would grow. I would join this man in marriage.

Animals surrounded us in silence, watching and listening as we knelt, facing the other, both hands joined, eyes intent on the other as Father spoke the words joining us as husband and wife. After the last amen, I experienced a quiet peace dispelling my fears. Love and support emanated from our Gods.

Father and Jehovah looked at each other, a knowing look passed between them, before Father turned back to us, speaking in His gentle, but stern, voice.

You are to multiply and replenish the earth.

Yes, Father, we said together, glancing into each other’s eyes before fastening them again on our creator.

You may eat freely of the garden. All is for your use. He spread his arms wide, indicating the trees and plants in the Garden.

My eyes followed his arms, noticing heavy fruit dripping from almost every tree. All this? Ours to eat? Such abundance, and for us alone?

You may not eat of that tree, Father added, pointing to a medium sized tree, filled with small, purple fruit, for if you do eat that fruit, you will die.

Die? That sounded ominous. I shivered. I would not eat of that fruit. Adam nodded and I knew he felt the same way. My attention shifted back to our creator as he spoke once more.

Go. Eat freely of the Garden. Explore. Discover the life within. We will return to teach you more later.

With that in mind, we gazed about us in wonder. Our Gods withdrew without our noticing. Alone together for the first time, Adam grasped my hand, keeping me close as we explored.

I have not been here before. I did not know this Garden existed, he said, verifying my earlier suspicions.

He pointed to the animals, sharing the names he had given them. I laughed as spider monkeys hung by their tails and begged for the fruit in our hands. Parrots squawked in the trees and eagles floated in the sky. Small creatures, such as slugs, crickets, ants, and worms hid in the bushes, trees, and along the ground. I stared at every one, trying to remember the names of so many new creatures. I shook my head at the difficult task of trying to keep so much new information in my mind.

Adam plucked a sweet smelling pink flower and tucked it behind my left ear, stroking his hand through my long hair. I enjoyed his soft, gentle touch. It did not surprise me that I liked it, it felt so right. He stayed near touching me often. As he did, his face displayed his wonderment.

He stopped occasionally to pick a new flower for me to carry as we explored. Soon my arms were filled with dozens of fragrant blossoms, overwhelming in color and beauty. Among all this beauty, our love grew.

We picked fruits, vegetables, and nuts from trees, bushes, and the earth and marveled at the flavors, many new even to Adam. Sticky, sugary juices covered our faces and rolled down our arms. We ran laughing to a nearby stream to wash beside colorful fish. Insects buzzed through the air and in our ears. I gazed down at our reflections.

We are different, you and me. I tilted my head to the side.

Different in many ways, some more obvious than others. Adam reached toward our reflection. There is a red to your brown hair while mine is dark.

I ran my finger down his long, straight nose then touched my nose while still gazing into the pool. My nose turns up on the end.

Your dark brown eyes almost match your hair—

—And yours are a brilliant blue. I reached out to touch his cheek.

Adam playfully splashed, disturbing our reflection. We may be different, but we are together.

I washed the stickiness from my face and hands, then took a drink. With the water dripping from my chin I asked, Does this magnificent garden have a name?

Adam looked around at the garden around us. I did not hear a name. He paused in thought a moment. I know. You give it a name.

Me? I stared at him and plucked a blade of grass, twisting it between my fingers and inhaling the pungent aroma. My eyebrows lifted. How will I name this? Are you sure? Naming was given to you to do. Will Father be unhappy if I name it? Excitement and nervousness filled me.

I named the animals. Father will understand. You name home.

I nodded and thought of names, rejecting several. Not Zoral nor Amat, nor any of the others I tried. Adam watched me in silence, knowing the challenge of choosing names. I felt a smile lift my face as I finally found the right name.

Eden. This is Eden.

Eden? He scrunched his eyebrows close in thought, then smiled. This is the Garden of Eden.

I stepped close and he pulled me into his arms. I welcomed his ready support. We embraced, recognizing the rightness of name—Eden, a paradise. We stood for a time, holding each other, enjoying the closeness.

When the light dimmed and the sun fell behind the trees, we found a place beneath a towering catalpa and laid down to sleep in each other’s arms.

How long did you live here alone? Before today? I asked.

Adam stared into the darkening sky, his arm tightened around me. I do not know. I did not count all the days. I named many animals, it took time to name the individuals. He shrugged. His free arm stretched wide, indicating the world around us. The animals in the sea took longer. I stood on the seashore as each came to be named. It took many days.

He squeezed my hand, turned and faced me. Tears glistened in his eyes. I thank Father you are here now, here with me.

We gazed silently into the heavens, my head on his arm, listening to the crickets’ chirp, as a large, white circle began to rise, clear and beautiful. I lifted my arm and stretched it toward the white circle, then dropped it in awe.

Oh, it is beautiful, I whispered.

The moon, Adam whispered to my unasked question.

It is so close. I can almost touch it.

Bits of light appeared, joined soon by larger splotches.

"What are they? I breathed.

Stars.

I became aware of an order to these stars, identifying shapes in their outlines.

A bear! I cried, pointing.

An eagle! He pointed another direction.

A chipmunk.

Look, a fish.

Adam pulled me closer into his arms and I laid my head on his chest, enjoying his warmth, his closeness, and his scent as we watched the huge moon climb into the sky above us. Lying together, I slept until sunlight streaming through the trees woke me.

THE NEXT MORNING, I woke startled. I struggled to remember what happened. Questions about the differences in sounds and other sensations filled me. A fragrance behind my ear reminded me I lived in a new world. I turned my head to gaze at Adam. A smile creased my face as memories of the day before filled me: our marriage, our explorations, and the moon. Most of all, I remembered Adam’s kindness.

He lay now with his arm thrown across his eyes to keep out the bright light of morning. We had not moved during the night. His hip next to mine warmed and soothed me.

Drawn by the flavors of yesterday’s food, I decided to surprise Adam. I eased my body away from his and stood, stretching. I walked to the trees, searching for the foods I enjoyed the day before. I worked to remember the name of the big purple fruit. Oh, yes. Adam called them figs. After several tries, I managed to jump and pull two from the tree.

Other fruit, identified earlier by Adam, grew close by, tantalizing my senses. I added bright red strawberries and oranges, bigger than both my fists together to my cache. Animals joined me. Some plucked fruits from the trees while others grazed on the green grass. Thinking of Adam’s love for flowers, I tucked an orange blossom behind my ear. Its sweet aroma moved with me as I adjusted the fruit in my arms and toted it back to where Adam lay.